


In times of need

by orphan_account



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, Sexy Zone
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 21:07:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1913898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fuma is always there to catch Kento.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In times of need

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Michelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michelle/gifts).



> This was inspired by the part of the NOOTV version of the Stand & Run documentary when Fuma covered up for Kento being late at costume change, running out to take over the talk section in his stead. Fuma looking out for Kento and Kento's frustration with himself led to this.  
> It's not much and who needs plot, but yeah, enjoy ;)

Fuma’s POV

Kento was my partner, both at work and at almost every other aspect of my life, and it came natural to me to jump in for him in case of need. So I did not think twice about covering up for him when I found him to be late for his own talk sequence throughout our concert, instead offering to jump in before he had even arrived for costume change. 

That I was fine with it, though, did not mean that it didn’t bother Kento, and I could not even blame him for that. We were alike in that aspect, always the most critical of our own performance, and seeing our own mistakes much more drastically than those happening to people around us. Kento was a perfectionist and hated losing at anything, and even if it had all turned out well with my quick reaction, he was clearly upset about it.

I wanted to tell him not to worry about it, that I of all people minded the least having to help him out, but I stopped myself, knowing exactly that I would not want to hear those words either had the situation been reversed.

Because opposed to me, Kento liked to be comforted when he was upset, but this was different. He was frustrated with himself, and saying anything about it would be like walking through a minefield, never knowing which word would be the one to set him off. 

So I bit my tongue and let him be, just sitting at his side on our way home, chatting with the other members as Kento stared out of the window. 

Only when the staff had dropped the younger ones at their houses and it was just Kento and me left in the last row of the van, I reached out to entwine our fingers. Kento did not look at me, but he squeezed my hand once in acknowledgement.

“I am going home with you today” I said simply, no question, just a statement. We had long since reached the point in our relationship where it was perfectly fine to invite ourselves to the other’s place, and though maybe Kento would have liked to fight me on it tonight, he just shrugged and returned: “Okay.”

It was not that late, but after concerts we never had much motivation for anything, so after a short chat with Kento’s parents we disappeared right into his room, in search for some peace. 

I gave him just enough time to put away his things before catching him by the waist and pulling him into me. 

I kissed him softly, affectionately, communicating all the things I could not say out loud through my touch. 

That he was important to me, and that I would always be at his side to catch him. That I hated it when he was upset. That I wanted him to let me take care of him.

When Kento’s fingers laced through my hair in response, returning the kiss, he deepened it immediately, reaching for dominance over it, and I let him. 

Kento and I had a balanced relationship, our dynamics never allowing it for us to get out of rhythm, if in private life or at work, and this was no exception. I could not deny that I tended to search control when it came to intimacy, and most of the time, Kento just indulged me, but then there were moments like these, when Kento had no patience to be taken care of, and when that happened, I never fought him either. 

His tongue moved demandingly, almost forcefully against mine and the hand that was not buried in my hair to make sure I would not escape roamed my back through my thin shirt, making me shiver. 

Kento only broke away to pull my shirt over my head and shrug out of his own quickly and efficiently, like this was just another costume change, not losing any time before claiming my lips again and pulling me into him. 

I held onto him tightly, trying to keep up with his kiss and his pace, but I felt too heady with his bare skin against mine and his palms tracing every curve, every edge of my body, making breathing infinitely more difficult than it was supposed to be.

Kento’s fingers soon found my belt buckle, undoing it as well as the zipper underneath, slipping them into my pants and palming me through my underwear. I groaned into our kiss in response, lowering my own hands to his butt and kneading it through his jeans. 

Kento did not tease me for long, though, quickly getting rid of the remaining fabric between us and pulling me towards the bed. I did not mind - there was a time for extended foreplay, and this was definitely not it, not when raw feelings and exhaustion was in the air, and the rough need for the ultimate physical intimacy. 

Kento immediately reached for the drawer of his bedside table, searching for the lube, and I stretched myself comfortably out on his bed, marveling at the soft texture of his sheets against my skin, waiting. When Kento crawled over me again, claiming my lips once more, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling him flush against me, feeling the length of his body align with mine.

Kento was restless, though, soon leaving my lips to splay wet kisses over my jaw, down my throat and over my collarbone. His hands explored my chest, clever fingers finding my nipples and twisting them, and I moaned as I dug my fingers into his shoulder blades. 

When he gently spread my legs wider, palms smoothing over my thighs before picking up the lube again, it did not feel weird, not like the first times we had tried it that way and I had clamped up, nerves rebelling. But those days were long past and by now, I had no reservations to give myself up to Kento, to just close my eyes and let him do whatever he pleased. In the contrary, I had really grown to love it, the look in Kento’s eyes when I let him have his way with me, the sensations his touch brought, everything about him. 

As if on cue, I felt a slick finger circling my rim, making me sigh and lean up to find Kento’s lips again. He kissed me deeply,as if determined to engage me completely while his fingers were working further down, preparing me gently but effectively. 

I jerked when he found my prostate, breaking the kiss to moan, and Kento moved to suck on my earlobe as he prodded it purposefully, making pleasure more intense than the cheers of a whole arena of fans run through me, clouding my mind. 

“Kento” I brought out, choked, breathy, but he got the message, pulling his fingers and reaching for the lube again, squeezing out a good portion to slick his length. I watched, always weirdly fascinated by his hands on his own body, only breaking out of my trance when Kento positioned himself, pressing his tip to my entrance. I pulled my legs a little in return, planting the soles of my feet to the mattress for more leverage, and one of Kento’s hands found the underside of my thigh, gently stroking over it. 

“Okay?” he checked, because no matter how often we did it that way he had never stopped asking for permission, and it made me smile because it was a little ridiculous but also so like him that I found it a tiny bit adorable. 

“Yes” I breathed, taking a sharp breath as Kento pushed inside. He did it in one go, not leaving me any time to breathe before he started moving, but I liked it that way, appreciated it when he was that tiny bit rough and impatient, finding myself more riled up that way. 

I had never told him, but Kento was actually _good_ at this, finding just the right pace immediately, just quick and hard enough, and it made me fall apart at his touch, making soft moans slip my lips as I clung to him, shaky fingers clawing at his biceps, feeling the muscles strain under my touch. 

It took not long for him to find my prostate again, it never did, and then he hit it with every thrust, making me slip further and further from reality, Kento above me and inside of me the only thing that was real and solid as everything else seemed to tilt out of focus. 

I shuddered when Kento moaned my name directly into my ear, circling my legs around his hips, trying to pull him even deeper into me.

The angle changed, and I pressed my face into Kento’s neck to muffle the loud noise that escaped my throat. Kento’s fingers found my sweaty hair, fisting it in his desperation as his pace grew more urgent, and even this felt good, sharp and real and blending in with all other sensations he gave me. 

And then, I was gone, white pleasure clouding my mind as I let go, forgetting everything but Kento around me and inside of me and against me. It felt almost like a second orgasm when his rhythm faltered and he pulsed inside of me, following me over the edge with a moan right into my ear, and then, we became still, just panting and holding onto each other. 

I had to smile, feeling peaceful with the way I could feel Kento’s heartbeat against my skin and the way he was still buried inside of me, still connected to me in every way as we came down from our highs.

“Better?” I whispered as soon as I had any air to spare, nuzzling my nose against his cheek, making Kento chuckle and tighten his grip around me, hugging me with all the strength he could muster up after the exhausting day.

“Yes” he whispered. “Thank you.”

I snorted, because it was not like I had done anything, not really, but when he caught my lips in another kiss, it was soft and sweet, telling me without words that it had still been just what he had needed. 


End file.
